


The Art of Tongue

by Eggsyobsessed



Series: Hang Your Stockings for St. Nick (2019) [4]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cute, Distractions, Eggsy is so done, Established Relationship, Harry Hart is a Little Shit, Intimacy, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22094731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/pseuds/Eggsyobsessed
Summary: Eggsy gets an early morning phone call from his sister regarding Christmas for their mother - Harry Hart is an annoying, but deliciously pleasing, distraction.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Series: Hang Your Stockings for St. Nick (2019) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581106
Comments: 10
Kudos: 127
Collections: 2019 Kingsman Stocking Stuffers





	The Art of Tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LelithSugar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LelithSugar/gifts).



> This is for LelithSugar, who brings some of the best hartwin I have ever read. Thank you so much!  
> Her prompt for the stocking stuffers: One partner trying to continue a sensible phone conversation whilst the other does something lovely to/with them.  
> And I honestly couldn't un-see THIS! 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy it! And I hope you had a Happy Holiday and Happy New Year!! (2020 still doesn't seem like it's real to me)
> 
> Thank you bunches to our mod, Paxdracona, who so graciously read this over for me; because I am nervous as FUCK about posting this. 
> 
> A shout out to my good friend, Snafu07, for the beta read - you rock, darling!

“Yeah Mum?” Eggsy answered, voice groggy and thick with sleep.

He had every intention to sleep the morning away and the better part of the afternoon, too, if he was being completely honest. But his phone had buzzed and buzzed along his nightstand and he would have ignored it too, until it clattered off and onto the floor only to jolt him upright.

Which inevitably caused the sleeping man beside him to stir awake, face rather wrinkled from pillow lines and others that have made a home on a face Eggsy loved so much. Eggsy had planned on shutting his mobile off, but when he glanced at the caller-ID he was quick to answer the third call that chimed through on the first ring.

“Not mum,” came Daisy’s small voice. “Mum is sleeping.” Every hair on Eggsy’s body stood as he straightened, not even bothering to catch the fallen covers as he did or give a second glance at his now frowning husband.

“Is mum okay?” Fear prickled up his spine and settled like an unwelcome guest in his heart. Daisy was eight, smart and witty, his mum clean and held her own, but Eggsy could never be sure; old habits die hard and all that.

As he spoke those words he could feel Harry rise as well, a warm soothing hand on his shoulder while Eggsy tensed for his little sister to answer. He was a second away from pressing for more when she giggled, and said, “Mum’s okay. Need a favor, Eggsy.”

Eggsy fell back into bed with an exasperated sigh, but relaxed all the same. “You scared me, Dais,” he chided softly, but his words lacked proper heat. “What favor did you need, Flower?” He easily maneuvered into the warm embrace Harry offered, his head pillowed in the crook of his neck while he held the phone.

“It’s Christmas soon. I wanna do something special for mum.” Eggsy could hear the excitement in each word; he grinned. “Like mum pamper day.”

“I think we can work something out,” he promised. “Maybe if you call ba-” He tried to suggest she call back, but she wasn’t having it and easily interrupted him mid sentence.

“No! We gotta talk now!” He would have worried further about the urgency in her voice, but his baby sister was tenacious. “Mum worked late and asked I play nice and quiet. I’m being nice and quiet, and you’ll help!” Eggsy buried his face into the crook of Harry’s shoulder to stifle a laugh.

“Okay.” His voice muffled against Harry’s sleep warmed skin. “I’m listening,” Eggsy said clearer; having turned his face away.

Eggsy waited patiently while Daisy rattled off ideas she had, a few were good and some so far fetch that even with his connections with Kingsman, couldn’t make happen. One stuck out though, a spa service offered by The Savoy. Eggsy could easily manage that, and even offer to babysit for the night.

“I don’t know lunch with the Queen would be possible, babe.” Eggsy felt Harry’s laughter against his neck. He had turned on his side, Harry’s body adhered to his back as he did with long legs and arms wrapped around him like a cage.

“But-!”

“No.” He stayed firm. “That isn’t something I can work out. And honestly that is more your thing than mum,” he pointed out. Eggsy could feel her eye roll through the phone. He had all intent to reprimand her when a solitary finger trailed down his spine, worked its way past his pants, and smoothed along his cleft to nestle comfortably between his cheeks.

“Harry!” Eggsy yelped as the tip hooked a bit, causing said digit to probe tightly wound muscle.

“Uncle Harry?” Daisy inquired rather excitedly. She had started calling him that a year after Eggsy and Harry had made it official. Now four years later and it stuck. “Did you have a slumber party with Uncle Harry and I wasn’t invited?” Her accusatory little voice cajoled a giggle out of Eggsy, one that quickly morphed into an unintentional moan while Harry added pressure against his hole.

Eggsy tried, rather pitifully, to bat Harry’s hand away but he had now added his weight against Eggsy, and he was pinned to the mattress.

“Dais…” Eggsy tried to gain some sort of dominance over the situation while talking to his kid sister, but Harry had weight and strength against him, along with a rather delicious finger up his ass. “You know Uncle HARRY!” Eggsy bucked up as Harry added another finger. He held the phone away and twisted back to stare his intruder in the face.

For a moment he was mesmerized by every facet that made up the face of his husband, a man he’s loved longer he’s willing to admit. Eggsy took in the scar that once contained his left eye - and only after their second year together did Harry stop wearing the patch to bed - how his face wrinkled further with the devilish grin he wore, or the few age spots that had started to darken over the years; Eggsy loved it all. Loved everything right down to the day his husband decided to stop ‘tinting’ his hair on his sixtieth birthday two years prior, and wore his silvers with pride.

But he shoved all that aside to scowl at him.

Harry knew what he was on about and even still the old tart was fondling him while he was on the phone with his _sister_ of all people. It weren’t like Eggsy was talking to Merlin - who would have surely picked up by now the game Harry was playing - and doing this all just to get a laugh. Eggsy narrowed his eyes and shoved once more, in a brash attempt to stave off the wandering fingers damn near touching his prostate. This only seemed to humor Harry further; his grin widened, dimples deepened, and what could only be his middle finger wiggled inside his arse.

“You fucking-”

“Fucking what?” It was no longer Daisy’s voice, but his mum’s. “Gary Unwin! I know you were not about to swear while on the phone with your sister.” If Eggsy were annoyed before, he’s bloody furious now.

All his hope to explain Uncle Harry had lived with Eggsy for over four years now, and in fact _would_ invite her over for a sleepover, died on his lips while his mum reprimanded HIM. A grown man of thirty two thank you very much.

“No mum,” he conceded like a spanked child. Harry’s fingers stilled inside him only for his lips to form a small O against his skin, and suckled just below Eggsy’s jugular

“Mummy!” Eggsy heard Daisy whine in the background. “I was talking to _Eggsy_!” She emphasized his name like he was of utmost importance.

“I don’t care if it was the Queen, young lady, you don’t go taking my phone without asking.” Eggsy can make out the foot stomp and several others that faded away - with what he assumed was Daisy making a grand exit - no doubt in a strop.

Michelle sighed heavily into the speaker, a loud crackle reverberated in Eggsy’s ear. “I’m sorry Eggsy. I know it’s early and she shouldn’t have taken my phone.” Eggsy had, as of yet checked the time. It shocked him when the bedside clock read seven thirty, and no wonder he ignored the calls so vehemently earlier.

“S’okay,” Eggsy managed to slur beyond the other assorted things he’d like to say.

Or rather other noises he’d like to make, because talking was very low on his list right now.

Harry had moved from suckling his neck to peppering the lightest of kisses down his spine, a tongue darted out along its path and worked to lav his cleft while the two fingers inside him widened to open him up.

“Eggsy?” His mum asked, half concerned and half perplexed at the increase of his breath.

To be completely fair, Harry’s fingers had abandoned his hole only for his tongue to take their place. It was warm, wet, and fucking fabulous as it swirled around the slightly loosened muscle and slipped in. He was so goddamn angry and so turned on it was fucking illegal. Eggsy was completely powerless when it came to his husband’s mouth.

“...Yeah?” Eggsy wheezed. And if he weren’t so bloody worked up, he’d be right embarrassed right about now.

“Are you having trouble breathing, luv? Catch a cold? I could make you some soup.” Eggsy’s hips rotated in time with Harry’s tongue, groin pressed into the mattress in an attempt to add friction against his hard, aching dick. His head floated with heightened sensations, that he barely acknowledged his mother’s concern over his health.

“No!” Eggsy assured, a little too enthusiastically; voice risen a few octaves. But it didn’t help that Harry had decided to cup his balls at that precise moment and pull ever so delicately. “M’fine mum, just tired.” That was his best fucking excuse at this point.

“I could come ov-”

“Sorry, mum, gotta go.” Before she could even finish that offer to stop by or say goodbye; Eggsy disconnected the call. His body sagged into the mattress, completely submitting to Harry’s oral assault on his arse. “I hate you,” he moaned into the crook of his arm.

Harry stopped long enough to kiss each cheek, and said, “No you don’t.” In that smug ‘you know I’m right’ way he has about him, usually concerning the choice of pocket square Eggsy placed with his suit, but still irritated him the same in this scenario.

The bed bowed beside him with Harry’s weight, as he moved beside him. He didn’t have to look to know Harry was just centimeters from his face; his breath ghosted warmly against Eggsy’s skin.

“I know you didn’t cause all that fuckery just to stare at me,” Eggsy quipped, still refusing to look at his husband like a stubborn child. Because he knew that if he did, he’d be sunk, and all ignition of the situation would be lost. And Eggsy really wanted Harry to eat his arse out, to the point he was coming like a virgin against their sheets.

But Harry didn’t move. All he did was place the smallest of kisses to Eggsy’s nose, repeatedly, until he peeked through one eye. His vision filled with Harry’s grey-brown curls, now more wavy than anything, flopped over his forehead, and somehow made him look boyish with his sixty-two years of age; he was gorgeous.

“I caused no such fuckery,” Harry protested, with all the faux innocence of a child caught in the act of stealing a biscuit before dinner.

Eggsy beamed wickedly up at him. “You will be doing ALL the fuckery, then,” he informed him.

“Then I shall,” Harry agreed with a wide smile.

A slow, loving kiss was placed to his lips - which Eggsy allowed rather easily for someone who claimed to be so angry - before Harry worked his way back down Eggsy’s body where his tongue, once more, found home inside Eggsy.


End file.
